


Tape Face Live

by Nstromo



Category: Tape Face
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nstromo/pseuds/Nstromo
Summary: You're going to see Tape Face live! Silly of you to hope to make a connection . . . Right?A Tape Face fan fiction of a tame but open-ended nature. An imagination sparker.





	

Your good friend John got you tickets for your birthday to see Tape Face live as soon as he toured your area and tonight was the show. You'd waited months and endured much teasing from John about your excitement. He knew you had a crush on Tape Face and repeatedly referred to him as your boyfriend to embarrass you.  
"Ready to finally meet your boyfriend tonight (your name)?"  
"Bite me."  
"Pity he can't."  
"Not funny."  
"It's a little funny."  
John parked and the two of you headed to the venue. Small space, seats at tables, 2 drink minimum, it seemed very relaxed. An oddly intimate space for someone so popular who could have easily filled a venue 5 times the size, and you were thankful. You and John easily scored a close pair of seats and your stomach fluttered a bit at the odds of being pulled onstage.  
"Feeling watched?" John asked.  
"What?" You look around and realize Tape Face has been sitting quietly on the stage the whole time and when you see him, his eyes are square on you. You freeze, wondering if you're blushing, secretly scrambling for a dignified way to disengage from the eye contact that is rapidly growing more awkward. But like you're stuck in the bright green eyes aimed at you, you fail to do so. He raises his eyebrows and looks away to watch the other people filtering into the room. Already feeling like you've embarrassed yourself, you make a point not to look onstage again until the show starts and chat with John who, thankfully, has dropped the teasing for now.

The show is delightful and, while a mix of familiar and unfamiliar pieces, is thoroughly entertaining and feels fresh live. When his finger lands on you and he gives a gentle snap and beckons, you start to shake a bit. You glance at John as you get up to catch his smile of two parts joy and one part evil. You step up onstage and Tape Face offers his elbow. You lace your arm through, he waves to the audience and takes a few strides, shooting you a look that illicits a surprising physiological response buckling one of your knees for just a second. You see him notice the extra weight you put on him and hope he thinks you're just tipsy. The pretend "let's get out of here" ends and he stands you in front of a small table. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a container of clay. You suddenly feel a duty to pretend the bit is new to you and watch expressionless as he fakes a very threaded lid to the container. A peppering of chuckles remind you that you're being watched closely and you remind yourself to be careful about enjoying what is to come. He sets up the clay and stares at it with the posture of a child. He looks from you to the clay with crinkles of expectation on his forehead. Expectation turns to impatience and he gestures a, "Well? Go ahead!" You reach out slowly, allowing him time to stop you, which he does with an expression of such great offense that it doesn't matter that you know the bit and you genuinely laugh as you can practically hear the, "Woah!" Your laughter is drowned out by braying onlookers. He positions your hands, then squares you off with a gentle push on your hip. Goosebumps crawl everywhere and you pray he doesn't notice. He stands behind you, pushes your hands down, the music and lighting change, and the audience must think you're slow because at first you forget to laugh. That's right, it's funny. Not sexy. It helps that there is a coldness in how still his hands stay on top of yours and the clumsily stilted repositioning of them. Not sexy. Funny. But his hands are not where your attention is. Sure, you peek at a tattoo and appreciate the skin on skin, but he is just barely against you from your shoulders to your butt. You want to push into him. Pretend to double over laughing and see how firmly you can get your butt against his hips. But you can't. Even if you weren't far too shy for such things, it seemed . . . Rude. You're just another girl on just another night, and he surely wouldn't appreciate it. The contact between you was broken in a sudden move to your left, where he gestured largely toward you, looking out into the masses. Applause broke out and you got one last second of eye contact as he gestured for you to return to your seat. The eye contact of two strangers. The illusion was broken, the weight of being just another stranger fell heavily on you as you sat and John leaned over and whispered, "Cold shower?" You snarled.

After the show, the audience got up and poured out into a lobby area where Tape Face sat to sign merchandise sold by another man standing further up the line forming at the table. You were last in line with John. You watched the silent interactions at the front of the line. The man was a good sport for sure. He sat there signing autographs, complete with a tiny swatch of black tape, and standing up to pose for the occasional photograph with fans. The man selling merch made small talk to keep those still waiting from getting impatient.

When you get to the front of the line, you purchase a T-shirt and while Tape Face signs it, you say, "I had a great time in sculpting class, but I think the teacher was being a little inappropriate, what are his credentials?"

Tape Face shrugs and cocks his head coyly. John says, "I'm glad you picked her, these tickets were her birthday gift."

Tape Face looks wide-eyed at you and promptly goes digging through his bag. You know what's coming, "Oh, no that's okay you don't have to waste -" the little popper throws confetti up little more than a foot "Well, thank you." Tape Face nods emphatically, then holds up his fists unfurling one finger at a time, staring hard at them, then looks at you, eyebrows raised with question. You tell him how old you are now and he looks you up and down and gives you a big thumbs up.  
"Thanks."  
He looks at John, draws a little circle around an imaginary watch, points to the two of you, and crosses his fingers, again with a question in his eyes. "Oh, he's just a friend but we've known each other twelve years."  
"(Your name) what are you talking about?"  
"He asked how long we've been together."  
John looks at Tape Face who nods. "How are you actually having a conversation right now?"  
"All those years I was so shy I barely spoke, I guess. It's the same language, he's just louder." You look back at Tape Face who's eyes are soft now. But he widens them again to look at John as he points to you, then makes a fist and puts it against his chest as he blinks slowly.  
You utter a simple, "Aw."  
John looks at you, "What?"  
"He says I 'get' him."  
Tape Face nods slowly, eyes closed, fist against his chest. So dramatic. You chuckle. He opens his eyes, looks at you brightly, holds out a hand, and glances at yours. You put your hand in his and he presses taped lips against the back of your hand. You smile. And with your nerves somehow calmer now, you feel the playfulness and don't clam up.  
"Oh, can I get a picture?"  
Tape Face nods excitedly. He stands, comes around, and you get your camera up on your phone, hand it to John, and stand next to Tape Face. He puts his arm around you and you reciprocate, still more comfortable than before, but starting to lose a little focus and you subconsciously squeeze. John takes a couple shots to ensure one without blur, then without lowering the phone, looks over it and says, "Now look at him like you just wanna lick him."  
"JOHN!!!" Mortified you're sure you've turned a deep shade of red.  
"Oh, c'mon, we'll show it to Sarah, she'll piss herself."  
You don't know a Sarah. John just freed you from responsibility with a fake backstory for a photo you can look at later of you looking at Tape Face with all manner of lust and him not seeming to mind. That's a twelve year friend right there.  
"Fine."  
You put your arm back around Tape Face, cross your other arm in front of him to grab hold of the strap on his bag, drop you chin, and indulgently look up at him as flirtatiously as you can. He looks back with confused shock and John snaps one picture before you laugh, "Damnit, he got me!" Tape Face's crow's feet sharpen with amusement. You try to see a smile behind the tape but you can't. He catches you looking though and cocks his head in a bit of a scold. You shrug. 

He holds up a finger to John. John looks at you like you're the official translator now. "One more."

John raises the camera, you resume your pose, and Tape Face leans in and presses an abstract kiss on your lips. His fingers push between your shoulder blades and you could swear he's holding you up by himself. It's over fast, you take a deep breath, lick your lips, and make a face at the taste. This time you can see the smile. And that he's trying not to laugh. 

He holds his hand out to John. John hands him the phone. He looks sternly at you, holds out the phone, points at it, then at you rather harshly. "Yeah, just for me. I won't post it."  
He pats you on the shoulder, but doesn't give up your phone. He goes into your contacts.  
Add new.


End file.
